


Carrot Top

by Sarcastic_Raspberry



Series: Solid Foundations [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Image, Humanstuck, Other, Parenthood, Toddlers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcastic_Raspberry/pseuds/Sarcastic_Raspberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eridan is having a bit of an image issue with his hair. He doesn't like how orange it is. Luckily, his dad gives him an idea on how to fix it. Unluckily, it makes a really big mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carrot Top

Your name is Eridan Ampora and you hate your hair. This is all that’s been running through your mind as you run your hands through the coarse strands, orange and not quite curly. They don’t lay flatly like Latula’s, and they aren’t a nice blondish-color like Terezi’s. Your hair sticks up at odd angles and is a bright orange- the color of carrots. You hate carrots. 

Sometimes, you look at pictures of your brother when he was your age. He and your dad don’t have orange hair like your sisters and mom. They have hair that’s completely black- well, accept a grey streak that’s starting to come out in your dad. He says it’s better than it falling out, and you’re inclined to agree. He’d look silly with a bald head. Of course, you pull on another lump of hair, maybe  a haircut wouldn’t be too bad in your case.

* * *

When you come home from school, you’re not suprised to see your dad’s coat hanging by the door. He usually gets home early on Friday’s. Cro helps you get your shoes off while Tula works on Terezi and then you’re off into the kitchen to see your dad sitting at the kitchen isle.

“Hi dad!” you say happily, darting over to him and grabbing his pant leg.

He looks down from his tablet and smiles at you. “Hey, Eri,” he says. “How was school?”

You can’t really answer, a look coming over your face as you reach up for him and point at his hair. “What happened to the grey?”

You hear Cronus chuckle behind you.

“Did mom finally get you to dye it?” Latula asks.

“It died?” Terezi asks as she comes in behind her.

“No, Terezi, it didn’t die,” your father says, standing up with a grunt as he runs a hand over the front of his hair. “I put some color in it. I tried pulling off the silver fox look but- eh, your mother wasn’t too keen on it. How do I look? Twenty years younger?”

Latula chuckles as Cronus rolls his eyes. “Yea, dad, sure.”

Terezi gives a huff. “I’ll be the judge of that.” You watch as she toddles over and lifts her arms up. He smiles, getting on one knee so she can reach up and feel his face.

“You’re still all squishy,” she says with a laugh.

“Try the hair, Tez,” Cronus says.

She moves up and pulls his head down before leaning forward and smelling it. She jumps back about a foot with a horrified look on her face. “Ew! You smell all chemically!” she complains, pinching her nose as her mouth curls back into a frown.

Latula’s laughing harder than she ever has before, holding onto the doorway for support. Meanwhile, you look on in fascination, suddenly knowing how you can get hair like your dad and your brother. If your dad can color his hair, then so can you.

* * *

You’re sitting in your living room, tablet in your hand as you finish typing an email. Damn these reading glasses- they make you feel old. Though, you suppose that was proven today. Heh, who cares what those kids say? You know you’re still cool. Ruth isn’t back from work yet, but you know she’ll appreciate it when she sees it. Eh, she won’t, but that’s fine. Honestly, that woman could be so picky sometimes. But, you still love her.

The impending laughter of your wife at the expense of your ever aging physique aside, you hear a pair of tiny feet begin racing towards you from behind the couch. You know it’s Eridan. Terezi wouldn’t be so quiet.

“Hi daddy!” he says, grabbing your leg like he always does as he scrambles to get on the couch next to you. He’s so small for a six year old. “Look what I did.”

Finally, you look up, the smile fading from your face when you see him, hair filled with black patches, matching ones on his hands and clothes, and even the couch from where he’s touched it. You want to yell, but you also know you shouldn’t. You want to laugh too, because he’s just giving you the proudest smile and you know he didn’t mean to do anything bad by it. Still, you drop the tablet and immediately grab his palms with a worried look on your face.

“Eridan, what is this?”

“I did my hair!” he said.

“I can see that- what did you use?” you ask.

“That stuff you put on your shoes.”

“Oh no,” you mumble. Of course it couldn’t have been markers or Terezi’s paint- no it had to be the one thing no one thought a kid would touch. Either way, you’re shrugging off all of those thoughts as you get up from the couch. “Cronus!”

He comes to the top of the stairs and you can see him over the railing.

“Yea dad?”

“Come watch Eri while I get a bath going,” you say, already heading for the downstairs bathroom.

* * *

Once finished running the bath, you got out the vinegar and dumped Eridan inside, the boy sulking as some of the black melted from his pale skin.

“Now, Eridan,” you say as you begin rolling your sleeves and scoop up some water in a bowl, “You know that this wasn’t okay, right?”

He doesn’t respond as you put some vinegar in the bowl as well.

“Come on, Eri, answer me,” you say sternly.

“You made your hair black.”

You give a sigh, dipping a hand towel into the vinegar water.

“I’m an adult, Eridan. I know what I’m doing. You didn’t. You could have really hurt yourself.” You leave the towel in the vinegar, kneeling on the tile to start washing the polish from his body with regular soap first. You manage to get some of it off in the first go, but you know that soap bar will be ruined after this.

“I didn’t hurt myself!” he says defiantly, looking up at you.

“But you could have, and that’s all it would have taken for me to be really sad, okay?” you say, tone gentle and a bit tired. “Now, why did you want your hair black?”

“Because orange is gross.”

“Your mother has orange hair, you know,” you say. "So does Latula and Terezi.”

“But you and Cro don’t!” he says suddenly, turning around entirely in the bath with both of his small hands clinging tightly to the rim.

You look down at his sad little eyes and nod with a sudden realization. “Ah, I see. You wanted to be like yer’ old man, huh?”

He huffs, sinking back into the water. “Tula’s hair is really soft and straight and Tez’s is nice too. Mine is like a really gross carrot got chewed up on my head!” he says as she splashes the water sullenly. “I thought if it was black it might look cool like Cro’s. I guess it just looks even more stupider, huh?”

You look down at him with a look of pity on your face before going back to cleaning him off. “I was about Cronus’s age when I first dyed my hair, you know,” you begin, rubbing the soap over his shoulders. “I’d just gotten this new girlfriend, she was a bit… wild. I thought I could impress her with some purple tips. Boy, when my dad found out? Boy…”

Eridan looks up at you again, intrigued. “What did he do?”

“Well, you know your grandfather!” you say, taking your right hand to your head and drawing an imaginary line around it. “Gave be a bowl cut, all the way around here! Heh, I was lucky the guy didn’t shave my head completely! Worst haircut of my life!”

“What did you do?”

“Oh, woo! It was awful! Then I got this great idea to tie it back in a pony tail. Heh, she was impressed alright, in her own way. I’ll never forget the look on her face.” 

“Was it mom?” he asks.

You say no, but decide not to tell him that it was Mirah Serket- who has gone as Mrs. Nitram for some time now. He doesn’t need to know about that.

“Still, that haircut was bad,” you continue, “but I found a way to make it work. You see where I’m going with this?”

He nods slowly and looks down at the sickly-gray water.

“And hey, Eri, there’s nothing wrong with your hair!” you say quickly. “Just ask your mother about her hair in highschool.” Ah, the time of legwarmers and curls. Those were the days. “That was a nightmare. Oh-eh, don’t tell her I said that.”

He giggles. “Alright dad, I won’t do it again. I swear.”

“Good. Now, let’s start getting that gunk out before we pass out, huh?” you say, grabbing the rag out of its vinegar bath, where it’s laid long-forgotten until now.

As you run it over his hair, he scrunches his nose and pulls a face. “That smells nasty!”

“Yep. It sure does, Eri.”


End file.
